


I'm in recovery

by whump_tr0pes



Series: David & Nia [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Flashbacks, Nightmares, Partners to Lovers, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Recovery, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:03:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whump_tr0pes/pseuds/whump_tr0pes
Summary: Six months after escaping Graylan, Nia is terrorized with nightmares. She starts to think maybe the best thing for David is to leave him so he can have the normal life she can never have again.
Relationships: David&Nia - Relationship
Series: David & Nia [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1481636
Kudos: 9





	I'm in recovery

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop coming back to my babes and their angst...

_Graylan dragged her head backwards with a hand in her hair. Her back slammed against the chair. She whimpered, pulling at the handcuffs until her broken arm made her cry out. She flinched as she felt the knife press against her throat. _

_“We always end up here, don’t we?” Graylan whispered in her ear. She swallowed, her throat sore from his hands. “No matter how many times you think you’ve woken up we always end up here. Did you really think it was real? Did you really think you were rescued?”_

_She sobbed. _I did. I did.

_Graylan laughed. “So stupid. After I broke you, you really think I would let you go? Your hallucinations are getting bad, Nia. How long did it go this time? How long did you believe you were saved?”_

Six months. I thought I was out for six months.

_“Ha. ‘Out.’ There’s nothing but this, Nia. Nothing but this and your death.” _

N- No. _She sobbed. The knife cut deeper into her throat and she could feel the life run out of her. _

_“I’ll still be here after you’re dead,” he promised._

Nia sat up, crying out in the dark. Her hands flew to her throat.

“What is it?” came David’s voice. She heard him fumble for the switch before it snapped on, filling the room with light. His hands were on her in an instant, touching her face, pressing against her shoulders. “Was it another nightmare?”

She nodded wordlessly and sobbed.

“Oh, Nia. I’m so sorry, honey.” He pulled her into his lap and leaned back against the headboard. He stroked her hair slowly, feeling the short ends with his fingertips.

She pushed away from him and shrunk into herself, quivering as she pulled the blanket tighter around her.

“I’m sorry, do you not want to be touched?” He moved back until he was on the opposite side of the bed and put his hands in his lap where she could see them.

“No, I…” She closed her eyes and gulped. “I’m so tired of this.”

“I know, love. I’m so sorry.” He pressed his lips together.

“No, I’m so tired of…” She looked at her hand as she squeezed it into a fist. “Why do we keep doing this?”

He blinked. “Doing what?”

She avoided his gaze. “Aren’t you tired of…pretending like I’m going to be ok again?”

“I…Nia, I don’t…you are going to be ok again, you’re going to get better.”

She wouldn’t look at him. “It’s been six months.”

“I know, but -”

“It’s been _six fucking months_, David.” Her eyes burned into him. “And I’m still having nightmares every god damned night. I can’t sleep, I can’t go in public without being scared of seeing him in the crowd, I can’t fucking _work_…”

“Nia, you don’t have to…”

“What the fuck are we even doing here? I’m of no _use_ to you, I’m of no god damn use to _anybody_…” She looked at her hands. “I still hurt every fucking day, I still hear him or smell him or _see_ him every day or every night when I’m dreaming, and I can’t, I _can’t_ keep doing it…” Her hands went to her hair and her fingers tightened in the short strands.

David was looking at her gently, worriedly. “You can’t? Are you feeling like you want to hurt yourself?”

She heaved a sigh. “No, no, I…” She wiped the tears angrily from her face. “I’m just so god damn tired of being the broken one in this relationship, of being the one that can’t handle _simple fucking things_…”

“You’re not the broken one.”

She glared at him, poisonous rage flashing hot through her veins. “Oh fuck off, don’t fucking coddle me. I’m broken and you denying it doesn’t change a damn thing.”

He froze at the fury in her voice. “I’m not coddling you, Nia. We knew this process was going to take a while. It’s perfectly normal to -”

“_Normal?_” Her voice was rising. “What the fuck is _normal_ about this? How the fuck am I supposed to turn to my ‘normal’ life of hunting down and neutralizing ‘normal’ people who do ‘normal’ things like terrorism and torturing me half to death?” She stumbled out of the bed and began to pace. “I could do it before, I could be in the field and work and do what needed to be done and now…I can’t do that anymore. I can’t even buy my own groceries without getting a fucking panic attack. A few days ago some kid pointed at my scars and asked his mom why I had them and I fucking lost my _shit_.”

“I know, Nia…I was there. You didn’t lose your shit. You did fine.”

“Well I…” Her hands went back to her hair and pulled. “I felt like I did.”

“But you _didn’t_, Nia.” He sat motionless on the bed, watching her carefully.

She sobbed and began to cry again. “David…don’t you want a normal life? Or not even a normal life, but…” She stared at the comforter, refusing to meet his eyes. “Don’t you want a life that doesn’t include babysitting me for the rest of it?”

His mouth fell open, and he slowly closed it. “I…don’t…_babysit_ you, Nia. I help you, yes, but you…you’ve been through something no person should ever have to go through, something most people wouldn’t _live_ through, and you survived, you’re recovering…and you held on for me, Nia, for me and Smith and Tom and all the others…don’t you think you deserve help in coming back to yourself?”

A tear rolled down her cheek as she finally looked at him. “I broke, David. I gave you all up. Christ, I gave Smith up after only a few hours. Not even. I…deserve…” Her voice broke.

David swallowed hard. “You deserve what?” She shook her head, her face twisting. “You think you…_deserve_…this…because you broke?” She stood stock still, frozen. Pinned down by his gaze. “Nia, no. No. This isn’t your fault. It’s Graylan’s. It’s only his.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” she hissed. “I’m here now and I’m dragging you down and I…I can’t…”

“Nia…can’t you see that this is a reasonable reaction to your trauma? Can you reframe it like that? You have PTSD, you -”

“This is not my _fucking_ PTSD.” Her voice lashed out. David didn’t flinch. “This is not…it’s not…”

“Flashbacks. Anger. Emotional numbing.”

“Stop it.”

“Self-blame. Avoidance. Isolation.”

“I said _stop_.”

He held her gaze. “I’m not giving up on you, Nia.”

Her lips trembled. “I’m giving up on this.” She turned and opened the bedroom door.

David felt like icewater had been dumped directly into his veins. He jumped out of bed and hurried to follow her.

She was pulling on her jacket as he reached her in the hall. “Where are you going?”

The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. “I don’t know. Away from here. I can’t be here anymore, I can’t…”

“Nia, wait…”

“I’m so tired of being a burden to you. I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to -”

“Nia, _wait_.” He grabbed her hand. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding when she didn’t pull away. “Please.”

She hesitated. Just for a moment.

“Please,” he repeated. He felt tears begin to prick his eyes. He didn’t care. “Please Nia, I…” He licked his lips. “If you want to go, if you _truly_ want to go, you can go. I won’t stop you. I can’t. But if you’re leaving because of me, then please, please just…” Tears began to roll down his cheeks. “Please stay. You’re not a burden, love. Oh, god, you’re not…” His throat was tight. “You’re not.”

She was shaking her head, tears pouring down her cheeks too.

David fell to his knees in front of her, clutching her hands. “You’re my partner. Nothing is ever going to change that. Not because I feel obligated, not because of anything like that but because…because I _love you_, you’re good, you’re so good, and brave, and kind, and strong…”

“How can you say you love me,” she whispered, “when he broke everything about me that there is?”

“_You’re not broken_, love. You’re hurt, you’re suffering, but you’re getting better.”

She shook her head. “My mind is broken. I keep having these nightmares, these panic attacks, I can’t work, I can’t be part of the team anymore, I’m not strong, I can’t…we haven’t had sex since…since…”

David shook his head. “Is that what you’re worried about?” He stood up, carefully searching her face. “You’re worried about us not having sex? Nia…” He reached up, hesitantly, slowly, and caressed her cheek. “I don’t expect that from you. After what you’ve been through…I can’t imagine that being taken from me like it was taken from you. You don’t have to, love, you don’t _ever_ have to…”

“But I miss it. I just…can’t…” She crumpled against his hand. “I can’t be a good partner to you. An equal.”

“Hey,” he murmured, bringing his other hand up to her face. “How many times did you hold me after I woke up crying about Juliet? How many times did you talk me down from those nightmares? How many times did you tell me it wasn’t my fault, and that I saved lives?” He closed his eyes against the memory. _I had to shoot her. She had a bomb._ “How many times have you put me on my ass on the mats? How many times have you been there for me when I was weak?” He shook his head. “It’s never going to be completely equal. It’s my turn to carry you for a while.”

“And…” Her voice was shaking. “What if I never get better? What if you have to carry me for the rest of my life?”

He smiled, just a little bit. “There’s no way you could convince me that’s possible. You’re too damn stubborn.” His smile faded. “But if you keep hurting like this, for the rest of your life, yes, I’ll still be there. Because _I want to_. Not because you’re making me, not because I feel obligated. But because I _want to_.” His hands moved down her arms to her hands. “You have your scars and you have your nightmares. But in the end you are still whole. And I still want you.”

She closed her eyes and cast her face down.

He pulled her face back up and she opened her eyes. “I will never try to make you stay. If this relationship truly isn’t what you want, then I…” Despite himself, his eyes filled with tears. He hated himself for his weakness. “I will respect that. But please, please, at least do me the courtesy of letting me make my own decision about it.”

She swallowed hard. After a moment she nodded. “I want you, David. I love you. I just can’t live with the idea of bringing you down with me.”

“Hey.” He caressed her chin. “This is part of the job. We’d make a shitty team if we walked off whenever the other had a bad day.”

“This isn’t just a bad day.”

“I know.” He pressed one of her hands to his mouth. “I know. But we’re a team. You’re stuck with me as long as you want me. Now will you please…” He held out a hand. “Will you please take the jacket off?”

She paused. “No…I want to drive for a bit. Just get out, get my mind off things.”

He nodded. “Ok. Please be safe.” He reached for the keys on the counter and handed them to her. “When you get back, please tell me what you need from me to feel safe.”

She smiled. It was faint, it was tearful, but it was there. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll see you when I get back. I…I promise I’m coming back.” She turned to leave. David watched the front door close and listened to the sound of the car turning on, pulling out of the driveway, and driving away down the street.


End file.
